


Cops vs. Firefighters: Coda

by reysrose



Series: Saturn [5]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: (They don't fully have sex), Car Sex, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Episode: s06e05 A Tale of Two Bandits, Four-Drink Amy Santiago, His Wives are Horny Drunk Idiots, Jake is tired, Multi, Semi-Public Sex, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24025957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reysrose/pseuds/reysrose
Summary: Jake picks Amy and Rosa up from Shaw's after they fight the firefighters for the bar.
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Rosa Diaz/Amy Santiago, Rosa Diaz/Jake Peralta, Rosa Diaz/Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Series: Saturn [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724032
Comments: 5
Kudos: 68





	Cops vs. Firefighters: Coda

**Author's Note:**

> Figured yall needed something funny after last night's angst  
> Hit me on Tumblr @reyshxpe

He’s slogging through his paperwork after getting fucked over, again, by a member of the Judy family when Rosa calls him. He thinks it’s weird, because normally at this point in the night the girls are asleep (so is he, but he digresses and keeps writing). He scoops his phone up with one hand and slides it to answer, holding it up to his ear.

“Jaaaaaaake! Jake Jake Jake!”

Oh, there it is. They’re not asleep because they’re trashed. Rosa yells something at Amy with a giggle, and then hiccups. 

“Gimme the phone,” Amy slurs, “I wanna talk to ‘im. Baby, you missed so much things.”

“Hehe, so much things,” Rosa snorts, “Jake, Cap chugged.”

Good Lord. He needs to go get them, doesn’t he? He caps his pen and closes the case file, slinging his jacket on as Amy and Rosa argue with each other on the other end of the line. 

“How much did you drink?” He asks them, grabbing his gun and badge and heading for the elevator.

“Depends,” Amy says. She must have the phone, unless he’s just on speaker. He hears Rosa tell Amy she’s gonna sit down and then yelp because she “sat in pee or something.” Great. Cool cool cool. They’re idiots when they drink, so stupid. He loves them but good God. 

“Are you at Shaw’s?”

“Technically, we are outside of Shaw’s. I am less drunk than Rosa, thank you,” Amy mumbles. Rosa yells something about it being truly only because Amy threw up like a little bitch. Jake pinches his nose and steps onto the street, walking to the car.

“I’m on the way.”

“FUCK yeah,” Rosa shouts. Jake hangs up on them. When he pulls up next to Shaw’s, Rosa and Amy are against the brick, Rosa’s back against the wall and Amy’s mouth attached to her neck. He turns off the car, walking up toward them and kissing the top of Amy’s head right as she draws a low groan from Rosa. She whirls around and he realizes that her hand is working clumsily at the button on Rosa’s jeans, and one of her thighs is still pressed up against the seam of them. Horny idiots. Rosa shoots him a dirty look.

“We’re in the middle of something,” she tells him pointedly, tugging on Amy’s jacket until Amy presses their lips together again, winding her hand in Rosa’s hair and tugging on it. Her other hand drifts back to the button she never got undone.

“For fuck’s sake,” Jake sighs, grabbing both of them by their shirt collars and tugging them apart, “you are both cops. This is at the least indecent exposure.” 

Amy whines pathetically as he strong arms her into the backseat of the car, reaching for his face and pouting. He humors her with a delicate kiss and then buckles her in. Rosa is sitting on the curb, elbows on her knees, and she rolls her eyes when he opens the door for her. He grabs her wrists and pulls her up, steadying her as she wobbles and snickers at him.

“Hehe indecent exposure,” she mumbles, “Very funny.”

“In the car, Diaz,” he says, pointing sternly. She shuffles into the backseat with Amy, and he buckles her in.

“Hands to your damn selves,” he tells them with a wink, “And do not unbuckle your seatbelts.”

He looks back about thirty seconds in and they’re making out again, Rosa’s hand sliding under Amy’s blouse and squeezing. It’s kinda hot. He rolls his eyes and focuses on the road, but then he hears Amy get Rosa’s zipper all the way down, the wet sound of Rosa sucking a bruise into Amy’s throat. 

“What happened to hands to yourselves,” he snaps at them, no real heat in his voice. Amy snickers and it morphs into a moan. Rosa gasps, and he looks back at them in the rearview mirror to see Rosa undoing her seatbelt to crawl into Amy’s lap.

“Diaz! Seatbelt!” 

“You’re no fun,” she slurs out, shifting out of Amy’s grip and back into her seat, redoing the belt before leaning back over to make out with Amy some more.

They go up the stairs to the apartment groping each other, Amy shoving Rosa up against walls and railings and Rosa squeezing Amy’s ass as they chase each other toward the door down their hallway. They both smell like a bar floor, and Amy has been smoking. He catches a whiff of cigarette smoke coming off her hair when Rosa shoves her onto the couch and straddles her. 

“I am not getting involved in this,” he says.

“Not even to make out with me?” Amy asks, as Rosa unbuttons her shirt and starts to shove the cups of Amy’s bra down, kissing down Amy’s chest. She’s nearly to the waistband of Amy’s pants and then jerks up, leaning back. Her face drains of blood and then she’s stumbling to the bathroom and slamming the door closed. He hears her retch and Amy pouts, lolling her head onto the back of the couch. 

“So much for miss ‘I never throw up.’” Amy grumbles, eyes fluttering closed. The five seconds without stimulation have been enough to drain all the energy out of her, and now she’s pale and tired and grumpy looking. The door to the bathroom opens and Rosa staggers out, going to the kitchen sink and drinking straight from the faucet. 

“Animal,” he mutters, hip checking her away from the sink and getting her an actual glass, filling it up, and pressing it into her hand, “I really hate it when you two make me be the responsible one in this relationship!” 

Rosa groans, draining her cup, going white, and locking herself back in the bathroom. Amy is asleep, curled up with her shoes still on on their couch. Jake puts Rosa’s glass in the dishwasher and goes over to the couch, taking Amy’s shoes off and placing them by the door. The toilet flushes and Rosa slumps over to the bed. He hears her flop onto it when the springs creak and he locks the doors, making sure all three guns are on the living room cabinet top, all three sets of keys are on the hooks on the fridge. He tugs a blanket over Amy’s sleeping form and kisses her temple, walking into the bedroom.

Rosa is facedown on top of the comforter, legs hanging off the edge of the bed. He crouches to unlace her boots, tugging them and her socks off.

“Wanna change?”

Rosa nods into the comforter. He helps her up and she undoes her belt, sliding out of her jeans and her shirt and bra. Jake tosses her a t-shirt and she shrugs it on and crawls under the blankets, shoving her face into her pillow.

“Jake.”

“Hmm?” He asks, gathering up clothes for Amy.

“Thanks,” Rosa croaks, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he murmurs, “even though you two are drunken fools sometimes.”


End file.
